The Fellowship of the Disc
by Grishbog the Orc
Summary: Rincewind, Mort, and Moist Von Lipwig all find themselves magically in Middle Earth, and decide to join in the quest to destroy the Ring! Rated T for some description of violence and gory images.
1. Moist and Midgets

**Chapter 1: Midgets and Moist**

"Come now cousin Frodo," said Pippin, as he walked through the now empty halls of Bag End. "Don't be too sad. I mean, you said it yourself. Money was tight. But don't let it get you down. You'll be fine. You'll be closer to I and Merry."

"I suppose you're right," said Frodo gloomily. "But still. I'll miss Bag End. And it's never seemed such a desirable residence as it now does. And, it really reminds me of old Bilbo. I miss him more now than ever. And I'm sure Sam would be happier if I lived a little closer to him."

"Frodo. I have a feeling that old Samwise here, would follow you to the ends of the last deserts, if he had to. Isn't that right Sam?" Sam had just walked out of the pantry. He had been gathering food, for the long journey. Frodo and Sam were going to take an evil magical ring to an elven city called Rivendell. Frodo had convinced everyone in the Shire that his money was running out, so he was moving back to his old homeland, East in Buckland. No one could know of the quest except him, Samwise, and the wizard Gandalf. Frodo had inherited the ring from his uncle, who adopted him when his parents died, which he had found on one of his adventures. His cousins, Merry and Pippin, and his best friend and loyal gardener, Samwise Gamgee, were helping him move. Sam went bright red.

"I don't know that I'd go that far," he muttered.

"See?" Pippin said. "A trip to Buckland once in a while will be nothing for our Sam. Now. Do you have everything?"

"I think so. Oh!" Frodo reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, and gave it to Sam. "Samwise. Before we leave, I need you to run this down to your gaffer. He'll need it to get in if he's going to garden and such around here still."

"Okay Mr. Frodo. I'll run it down real quick. You two wait on the porch and I'll come back as soon as time will allow." He quickly went out the door and rushed off down the road, toward 2 Bagshot Row.

"Oh dear." Pippin was muttering under his breath while he blew on his fingers to keep them warm. It was autumn, and Frodo wanted to walk during the night.

"What is it?" asked Frodo, looking up at the stars high above.

"We won't be leaving for another three hours, will we?"

"Sam will be back soon enough." They stood out in the cold for a few minutes before they saw the short, stocky sillhoutte of Samwise running up the road from Bagshot Row.

"Mr. Frodo. My gaffer said that their was some kind of horseman, all in black, came by earlier looking for you. He said he sent him onto Crickhollow. He thought you had already left."

"Well, I'm sure whoever it is, I'll be able to take care of him!" Pippin boasted, rather loudly.

"Come on." Frodo began walking down the road toward the garden of Bag End, and then crossed over the fence. The trio cut off through the woods. At one point, around a large fir tree, they stopped to rest. They slowly, one by one, fell away into a deep slumber, and slept through the entire night.

Morning came, and Frodo was up first. He started a small fire from dead pine needles, and pine branches. He took one of the frying pans from Sam's pack, and put some bacon and eggs in it. The other two woke up to a very pleasent smell of a delicious breakfast.

After they had breakfasted, they prepared to set out again. Just as they had all of their bags and everything packed up, something extraordinary happened. There was a loud bang, a bright flash, and then a thud. It all came from behind the pine tree.

Pippin walked around the back to investigate, walking stick poised to strike. But when he got back there, all he found was a man. A funny looking man, all in gold with wings on his hat. It almost looked like a Gondorian helmet, as Pippin would later recall. The man opened his eyes, and Pippin jumped. He stood up. He was a tall, thin man, and he didn't resemble any of the men that the Hobbits had seen in the Shire.

"Hello!" the man said, in an exasperated voice. "That wizard sends me through a portal, I fall to the ground, and find midgets. Great. Just great."

"We are not midgets!" said Pippin. "We prefer the term "halflings", or even "hobbits". But not "midgets"."

"Okay. Begging your pardon, but what exactly is a hobbit?"

"We're short, fun-loving creatures. We enjoy drinking and-oh no!" Pippin began searching in his pockets frantically. He took off his pack and searched through it.

"What's wrong?" The man asked. "Did you forget something?"

"Pipeweed. I have a pipe. I forgot my pipeweed. You don't happen to have any pipeweed on you, do you?"

"Unfortunately, no. I don't smoke. Never have. It's bad for you."

"We hobbits do it all the time, and we're always fine."

"Well then it probably reacts differently to hobbits than it does humans. Excuse me. But where am I, exactly?"

"You're in the woods of the Shire," piped up Sam. "It's in western middle-earth."

"Middle-earth? No! No, I'm supposed to be in Klatch! On the Discworld! On my honeymoon! Not in the Shire on Middle-earth!"

"You come from a different world then?" asked Frodo.

"Yes. I do! I think. I was supposed to be teleported to Klatch by a wizard, but I guess he got me here. Well, since I'm stuck here, do you mind if I join up with you guys? Even only temporarily?"

"Yes. It sounds fine. Actually, it might be good to have you with us. Just in case we meet any dangers. Not that I fear anything here in the Shire. Would you mind taking a bag?"

"No. It's no problem." Samwise took out the extra pack they had brought along (in case one of the other ones ripped) and gave it to the man. Sam had been carrying as much as Pippin and Frodo combined, so he gave the man half of his supplies.

"So," said Pippin. "What's your name?"

"My name, is Moist Von Lipwig. I am the Postmaster General of the city of Ankh-Morpork. It's from back on the Discworld. It's where I used to live."

"Ah. Well, I'm Peregrin Took, this is Samwise Gamgee and there is Mr. B-"

"Underhill. Mr. Bilbo Underhill," said Frodo.

"Well then. A pleasure to meet you all. Where exactly are you all headed?"

"Well, my cousin here is moving. He's moving to a place called Crickhollow. It's eastward, in Buckland. Now. If we don't get moving soon, we ought as well just sit down and eat before we go anywhere."

"Oh can we?" asked Moist. "I haven't eaten for quite a while."

"Here," said Sam, handing Moist a piece of bread and a slice of cheese. "You can eat it while we walk."

"Thank you so much," said Moist, taking a bite out of the bread. He recalled it being about 8 hours since he had last eaten. The four travellers began walking down the road again. There was a lot of rustling of the leaves underfoot.

At one point on their long journey, Moist looked down to see the different colored leaves and noticed something quite strange about the "hobbits". They wore no shoes, however their feet were completely covered with thick, curly fur of brown.

After a couple of hours of walking, and covering a distance of about 8-10 miles, they all sat down and began to get lunch together. Frodo looked down the road, and suddenly felt the Ring get heavier. He saw the road sway in and out of view. He grabbed the ring, and clasped it tightly. Sam came over, and put his hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo let go of the ring.

"Get off the road," he said in an exasperated voice. Moist and Pippin, who had been working most strenuously with lunch, looked up dissapointedly. "Get off the road!" They packed up the food, and all of them hid in a small dell underneath the road, that covered them from whatever was coming.

There was the faint sound of clip-clopping from a black horse. Finally, it pulled up on the road, right atop where they were hiding. The horseman came off of it with many a clinking-clank. He, or it, began sniffing the tree where they had just stopped to eat.

Again, Frodo's hand went to the ring, and again, Samwise stopped him. Finally, the sniffing ceased, and the horseman got back on his horse. He rode off into the distance toward Hobbiton. Immediately, Frodo knew that he had been sniffing out the ring. 'A servant to Sauron,' he thought.

"Come on," said Pippin. "Forget lunch. We have to get moving. If we go now, we may hit Farmer Maggot's by sundown. He'll give us dinner, and a right fine place to sleep the night, if haste doesn't carry you on further, cousin."

"Farmer Maggot," said Frodo. "I've not been there since I was a young hobbit. And last I was there, I got chased out by his dogs for stealing mushrooms."

"Farmor Maggot isn't a bad man if you're not after his mushrooms. Come along Frodo. You can bury the hatchet with old Maggot, and you'll realize he's not so bad." He turned to Sam who was sitting there, looking completely dumbfounded. "What's up with you?" he asked.

"I must have dozed off there," said Sam. "I thought I just heard _Pippin Took _say that we should skip lunch."

"You did. Now come on. I don't want to meet up with that Black Rider again."

"What exactly was that?" asked Moist.

"None of us are certain," said Sam.

"I have some guesses," Frodo said. "However, we shouldn't speak here. I'll tell you all about it once we get to Crickhollow." And so they went on. They crossed through the woods, trying not to follow the road to closely. Finally, just as the sun was sinking in the west, they came to Farmer Maggot's farm.

"Halt!" a voice called from the end of the lane. "Who are you, and what business do you have with the Maggots?"

Pippin called out to him. "It's I, Pippin Took, and one you haven't seen in a while, along with two you most probably have never met."

"Who are the other three, Master Peregrin?"

"It's Frodo Baggins, and his loyal gardener, Sam Gamgee! And one from a far ways away! He goes by the name of Moist Von Lipwig."

"Well, come on in. All of you. And make it quick! There are some strange things going on in the Shire of late." He made a defensive motion with his rake, and then turned and led the travellers toward the house.

"Mr. Frodo Baggins," he said, once they had gotten inside. They were all sitting in the living room, in chairs, talking real quietly. Mrs. Maggot had just started cooking dinner.

"Wait a minute," said Moist. "You said your name was Bilbo. Bilbo Underhill. But he just called you Frodo Baggins."

"It's a long story," Frodo said. "I'll explain everything as soon as we reach Crickhollow. But please. This isn't the time or place."

"Okay. I understand."

"Mr. Baggins," said the farmer. "There was a funny fellow, dressed all in black, came up to the gate today, on a black horse. He comes through that gate, and I says to him, 'This is private property!' He starts asking questions. He asks where 'Baggins' is. I told him you lived on aways in Hobbiton. And then he offered to pay me, if I could bring you to him. I said, 'No way. The Bagginses haven't never been no harm, to no one. Now off! 'afore I set my dogs on you!' He galloped away into the distance. Off towards Hobbiton."

"So that's what we saw!" exclaimed Pippin. "He was heading back towards Hobbiton looking for you, Frodo!"

"So this...thing. It's looking for you, Frodo?" Moist seemed to be suddenly very interested in the affairs of these three young hobbits.

"I-I suppose so." Frodo was getting more and more frightened by the minute. He knew it was the Ring. And right about now, he wanted to chuck it in a river, and go back to Bag End. Comfort. Memories. And a nice hot cup of tea by the fireside.

"But why would they be coming after you? I mean, you haven't done anything to make anyone want to kill you, have you?"

"No. I have lived a very quiet life up to this point. However, with these Black Riders running about looking for me, I have a feeling something's going down and it won't be quiet much longer."

"Well, whatever it is, I will help you, Frodo, for as long as I am here."

"Supper!" rang Mrs. Maggot's voice from the kitchen.

"Come now," said Farmer Maggot. "Nothing's going to get any of you, if we all go in and eat some supper. Peregrin." He turned to Pippin. "Can you go fetch my boys from the field?"

"It's no problem Mr. Maggot." Pippin hurried out the door, and along the pathway to the fields. The rest of the men all sat down, or began to help Mrs. Maggot with setting the table. Farmer Maggot's daughters came down the steps, in long plain dresses, with their hair braided.

Farmer Maggot's sons came in the house, with Pippin, and they all took seats. Within minutes, they were all feasting upon corn, potatoes, various other vegetables, chicken, and homemade bread with butter and honey.

Just as they were finishing up dinner, there was a crack of thunder, and it started pouring outside. Farmer Maggot began to move towards the door. Just as he got near it, lightning struck, and a silhouette of a huge, gangly thing was outlined in the door. Moist stood up, fists raised. Samwise put himself between Frodo and the door. The Maggot boys grabbed rakes and shovels, and Farmer Maggot moved closer to the door.

Then there was a strange, sloshy, sounding knocking on the door, and it opened to reveal someone outside. However, it was a gangly monster, by any means.


	2. The Ring of Power and Merry's Soup

Hello. I apologize for not being able to add this to the first chapter, but I could not figure out how. This is my first fanfic, so please R&R. The name of the first chapter is not meant to be offensive, only to show the ignorance Moist has towards people he doesn't know. I do not own anything Tolkien or Pratchett. Also, the was at the end of Chapter 1, should be wasn't. Again, couldn't figure out how to edit. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: The Ring of Power**

It was Merry. His pony was behind him, thus causing the gangly, soggy shape. He was shivering in the cold of the rain.

"Mr. Maggot!" he exclaimed. "You're not normally one for leaving a visitor out in the rain like that! Now. Are you going to invite me in, or shall I freeze while you feast."

"I think choice two," Moist said to general laughter from all of the Hobbits. Merry snickered a little, and stepped inside. One of Maggot's sons took his horse around back to the stable. He shut the door behind him, and took off his soaked jacket. Mrs. Maggot took it and hung it up.

"Is there any more soup?" Merry asked, taking a seat next to Moist, who put some soup in a bowl and handed it to Merry. Pippin passed him a spoon.

"Merry," Frodo said. "This is our friend. His name's Moist. Moist Von Lipwig. He's from a whole other world. I believe he called it...uh. What did you say it was called again?"

"It's the Discworld. It's a large, flat disc, which sits on the back of four large elephants, that stand on the back of a giant turtle called Great A'Tuin. "

"I see," said Merry, looking very sceptic. "Well then," he ate another spoonful of soup. "I see you've been making along well."

"About as well as can be made along, when you have Black Riders on your tail," replied Pippin, in a hushed whisper.

"Black Riders," said Merry, looking excited. "I would dearly like to hear about these so called 'Black Riders'."

"Oh, believe me," said Sam. "If you had seen them already, you wouldn't want to see them."

"I'll explain everything later," said Frodo. Rising from his seat, he added "Well Farmer. Thank you very much for your hospitality. But now, we really must be leaving."

"But cousin," said Merry. "I still haven't finished my soup-"

"Please Frodo," said Maggot. "I'll give you a ride up to the Buckleberry Ferry."

"But, my soup-"

"And we still haven't given you a present yet," said Mrs. Maggot. "How would you like some Mushrooms?"

"You know, mushrooms would go really well with some soup. Why don't you sit down and have some more, and I can finish-"

"Mushrooms sound wonderful," said Frodo. "Thank you Mrs. Maggot."

"Frodo, it was such a long ride! I'm so, hungry. And I'm sure you are too, from-"

"Come now, men. Let's go. Thank you all again." Frodo motioned for the others to follow him, and moved toward the door.

"Huh...So long, poor soup. Perhaps after Frodo gets to Crickhollow, I will come back and enjoy you."

"Merry," said Mrs. Maggot. "Would you like me to save you some soup?"

"Oh Mrs. Maggot. You truly are a jewel among Farmer's Wives." At this, Merry noticed the others were already out the door. He ran quickly, about as fast as his little legs would carry him, to reach the cart. His pony was helping to pull it.

At first, the group went at a very slow pace, however, as the night drew on the ponies found knew endurance and stamina. They pressed on, and before long, they were at Crickhollow. Fatty Bolger was inside, waiting for them with supper, and tubs, and boiling water. Pippin, Sam, and Frodo all bathed while Merry and Fatty set up dinner.

All the while that they bathed, they sang one of Bilbo's old bath songs, of food and drink, rest and...well...baths. After drying up, and putting on nice wear, Frodo and the others came out to the table. They had a second, decent-sized meal (for Hobbit standards, anyhow; Moist was definitely much more full than the others), and then Frodo stood up.

"I...I don't know how to put this..." he began, rather weakly. "With all of the work that was put into this, and the friendship that you have all shown, it just...it breaks my heart to tell you that...well-"

"That you'll soon be going into dangers unknown, and you're afraid you're going to go alone," Merry said. "Well cousin Frodo, fear not. For we all know of your dangerous plight, and of the Ring of Power, Sauron's Ring-the One Ring to Rule Them All."

Frodo had fleeting glimpses of many different emotions cross his face in a matter of seconds. "But how could you-where did you-how long-what?"

"We learned it all from the Master Conspirator himself," said Pippin. "Our very own Samwise Gamgee!" Frodo gave Sam a look that made him shrink back into his chair. Then, he looked at him happily.

"Unfortunately, you're right. However, I can't bring all of you along. Gandalf said-"

"'Bring only those companions of whom you can trust,'" finished Merry. "What's the matter Frodo? Can't trust us?"

"No. No it's not that. It's not that at all! It's just that-" he looked lamely at the floor. "-Gandalf said to go quietly, and while, the more people there are, the worse off we'll be."

"Which is why I've got a plan-" Suddenly, Merry's thought was interrupted by Moist.

"Wait a moment. What's this, Frodo?"

"My uncle, Bilbo, acquired a magical Ring that once belonged to a Dark Lord named Sauron. He left it to me, once he left the Shire. That's what those Black Riders were. They were trying to get the Ring back for Sauron. But it seems that it has been left up to me, to make sure he doesn't get it. The Ring cannot stay in the Shire. And no one can know that I'm leaving. That's why it needs to be so secret."

"Frodo. Hear me out," Merry said. "If we rise early tomorrow, and make our way through The Old Forest, we might just have a chance of making it to Bree without anyone noticing. And, we'll be able to avoid the Road, and those nasty Black Riders. Then, we can make our way towards Rivendell."

"What's Rivendell?" asked Moist. "And who is Gandalf?"

"Gandalf's a Wizard that is supposed to have met us before we left, however, he never did. I think we may hear word of him in Bree. It's a big enough town. And Rivendell is on the other side of Bree. It is a large Elvish City, and the man there, Elrond, is supposedly very wise. He will be able to instruct Frodo."

"Well, why not just do away with the Ring?"

"Well you see," Frodo said. "It's not that simple. In order to "do away with it", we'd have to take into The Cracks of Doom in Orodruin, the Volcano that sits in the middle of the Dark Lord's land. The Land of Mordor." Frodo sat there with a grim look on his face.

There was a chilled silence. Everyone was relieved when Fatty finally broke it saying, "You're not really going to go through the Old Forest, are you?"

Maintaining the same grim look the whole time through, Frodo replied, "Fatty. It's the only way to save Middle-Earth."


	3. Old Forests and Strange Men

Hello, my fellow Fanficcers. I apologize for any inconsistencies between this story and the Lord of the Rings books and movies. This story IS set with an alternate plot line. The song of Tom Bombadil is from "". Still don't own anything Pratchett or Tolkien. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 3: Old Forests, and Strange Men**

The morning promised to be a good one, the sun shining bright and clear. All of the Hobbits (and Moist) were up at the crack of dawn. Samwise, Moist, and Pippin were tasked with gathering the very last essentials for the journey. Meanwhile, Frodo was helping Merry bring the ponies out to the front of Crickhollow. Fatty was bringing all of the luggage outside.

"You know," Pippin said, packing a loaf of bread into a large backpack. "I'd hate to tell Frodo this, but I am a little scared of this whole..._adventure _thing. It's not that I'm afraid anything's going to happen. No one's going to send us off on our own. I'm just afraid of what will come _after _this. I just hope that everything will stay the same."

"Young Peregrin," Moist said, sighing. "You'll learn, someday, that nothing ever stays the same. Especially after you go off on an adventure like this. You will learn, and see things on this adventure that will change your body, your mind, and your soul."

Sam looked at Pippin. There was a look on his face that said, very blatantly, 'This guy scares me'. Pippin just shot the glance back at him, and nodded. All the while that they talked, Fatty Bolger ran in and out of the room, grabbing packs, bags, and bundles.

They all went outside once the packing was done, to find Merry and Frodo standing with six ponies. "What?" asked Moist. "No horse?"

"Sorry," said Frodo. "We weren't expecting one of the Big People to be coming with us. But don't worry! I have a feeling that we won't be able to make much better speed on ponies than we would walking. And remember: you have longer footsteps than us." The group started off, walking down over the fields, away from the road, all of the Hobbits on ponies, Moist on foot. He was keeping up pretty well, being only a few steps behind the first row of Hobbits.

Finally, after an hour of trekking, the travelers came unto a large opening in the Hedge that they had been following. It opened into a large forest, full of closely knit trees. "Are we going in _there_?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," Frodo said. "We have to." They bid farewell to Fatty Bolger, who turned around and rode back at a quickened pace, towards Crickhollow. "Well. In we go." They all started off, into the forest, a decision they would later regret.

"So," said Pippin, pushing a branch out of the way. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" asked Merry.

"The stories about this place. I mean, it's said that the trees come alive, and do horrible things to people! And it's also said that there are goblins in here."

"Oh Pip. There are no goblins in this forest. However, the tree thing may be true. I've never personally experienced it, for all of the times I've been in here. However, it's said that once, when Hobbits were just beginning to migrate here, the trees moved themselves right next to the hedge, and attacked. The Hobbits cut down many of the trees and made a _huge _fire from them. That's what the Bonfire Glade is. We should probably try to make for it, if we can."

"Wait a minute," Moist said. "'For all of the times I've been in here'? How often do you come into this forest, exactly?"

"Well, I mean, I've been in here a good handful of times. Of course, I'm a young Brandybuck. So it makes sense that I've been in here a couple of times."

Moist raised his eyebrows, muttered "This guy's nuts," and just continued to walk.

"Wait a moment," the voice said into the darkness. "I know this place." The figure was suddenly reminded of a memory of the strongest Wizard (or rather _Sorcerer_) who ever lived, a large and ugly horse-like creature, and a sock full of sand. "Oh god. I'm in the Dungeon Dimensions! Which means-Oh god! I sent the Postmaster General into the Dungeon Dimensions!" The man started to freak out.

'Rincewind!' the voice in the back of his head called to him. 'Get a hold of yourself! So what if you sent the Postmaster General into the most dangerous place accessible from the Disc! You should be trying to get out yourself!'

"You know," Rincewind said. "There's a reason why I hate you; You're the most insensible, incompetent, ignorant, arrogant conscience I have ever met!" After that, his conscience shut right up-for now.

"Oh no. What will Miss Dearheart-or rather, Mrs. Von Lipwig-think when they hear about this? I really hope they won't want a refund. I've already spent all of the money that they gave me!" Rincewind began to hyperventilate. "Okay. Well Rincewind. You've found your way into this. Maybe, you can go find another portal. Yeah. And maybe you'll find Moist!" Gathering up all of the spirits that he could, Rincewind lifted his robes and he ran.

In between spurts of running, he'd walk. At one point, he even sat down to eat. He had turkey and cheese on rye. Then he ran. Then, he saw a portal. It was blue, and he took that as a good sign. "I like blue," he said. He stopped to do the pre-portal check, but as he was pacing he tripped. He tumbled face first into the portal.

"You know," said Moist, tripping over a branch. "I really hate trees!"

"Hush!" said Merry. "You'll upset them." Suddenly, as they came towards a stream with a large Willow Tree, they all began to trip and stumble. Suddenly Pippin looked up.

"Can't go another step..." he said, "without rest..."

"Must sleep," said Merry, "plenty cool under the Great Willow..." Merry and Pippin walked over to the great Willow, and sat down underneath, one on either side. Samwise sat down in the middle of the field. Moist stood there, blinking stupidly. Frodo muttered something about "heat" and "water" and went to the edge of the river. He dipped his feet in to it, and let out a sigh of relief.

"Something doesn't seem quite right," Sam said, getting up and walking down the path. About halfway up the path he heard noises from behind. He heard a sound as of two great holes being ripped in wood, and then a loud _splash_! He turned around and Moist was coming up behind him.

"Quick Sam! Frodo's fallen in the creek! And goodness knows what's happened to the other two!" The two of them turned, and took off up the path. There, in the river, was Frodo lying face down. There was a large root on his back, pushing him down and keeping him under. Between the two of them, however, they were able to get Frodo up on land.

"Of all the things!" Frodo exclaimed, dripping wet. "All I wanted was to cool down my feet, and suddenly, _splash_! I'm being held under the water by that root."

"Well, we've gotten you out now Frodo," Moist said. "But come. What is to be done with Merry and Pippin?" The three walked around the tree. Pippin was nowhere to be seen, but Merry's legs were sticking out of a crevice in the tree. It appeared as though the tree was pinching him, holding him in, and his legs out.

"Samwise," Frodo said. "Did you happen to pack an ax? Just a simple utility ax for cutting lumber."

"Yes sir. But what if the tree gets mad? Then what? He won't like us chopping him up!"

"Well, just get it Sam. I've got another plan in mind." Sam hurried off to check their supplies for a hatchet.

"What is this other plan of yours?" inquired Moist. He was quite curious to know what Frodo could do with an ax, if not chop a tree.

"I'm going to cut up some of the fallen branches, and start a fire. Which reminds me..." he turned to look at Sam. "Sam! Get some flint and tinder too!"

Soon enough, Sam came back with the flint, tinder, and ax. Frodo quickly lit a fire at the base of the Willow. Just then, there came muffled screams from inside the tree. It was Pippin, or perhaps Merry, and they were yelling.

"Poot it oht!" the voice yelled. "It zed id'll pinzh my legs uf!" It must have been Merry. They quickly stomped out the fire.

"Well," Moist said, "what now?" Suddenly, Frodo was overtaken by urgency, and a greediness for aid. He took off down the path yelling, "Help! Help! Oh, won't somebody help us?" Just then he stopped, rather abruptly. From down the path, there came the sound of singing.

The singing voice was deep and cheery, and it was singing nonsensical words. It was a little like this: "Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo! Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!" Suddenly, a tall man, fair and dark of skin with bright blue eyes, a blue jacket, a blue-feathered blue hat, and tall yellow boots, bounded up the path. "Hello, my fine hearties!" he exclaimed. "The name's Tom Bombadil, and I heard you shouting from up the path. What seems to be the problem?"

"Our friends have been eaten by the willow!" Sam cried. Tom looked over at the great tree. "Old Man Willow! Why, I'll set his roots straight!" He walked over to the old tree. He picked up a branch off the ground and hitting the tree with it, he said, "Eat earth, dig deep. Drink water. Go to sleep!" With that, the Willow gave out a groan, and Merry and Pippin were both relieved through cracks that opened up like great gates.

"Thank you so much!" cried Merry and Pippin in unison.

"A word of wisdom for young hobbits; do not fall asleep under great willows! Come along, my hearties, and you will stay with Tom; at least for tonight. But I can't leave Goldberry waiting. So I'll be going ahead. Just catch up as you will." With that, he began bounding up the path, singing the same nonsensical song as before.

Rincewind awoke, to find a rather large bump on his head. It was about the size of an egg (robin's egg, that is) and pretty much as round. He realized almost immediately that he was no longer on the Disc. Or at least, he wasn't on any part of the Disc he had ever seen before.

He was on top of a large stone tower, broken, tumbled, and obviously very old. The tower was built on, and into, a large hill. From where he stood, he could see for miles and miles, in any direction. Until he saw forest, or mountains. Then, his line of vision stopped. He could see that the place he was in was used rather often, seeing as it had many paths leading up and down it's various sides.

"Hello?" he called out. Just then, he heard someone shushing him from the east. He walked over, and looked off the hill. Directly below him, was a dell. In the dell, was an old man, dressed in a grey robe, with a grey hat, that's brim stuck out past his bushy eyebrows. He had a long beard, which ran down to his belt. In a sheath on the belt, was a sword, and in his hand was a gnarled old staff. Obviously a fellow wizard.

"If you know what is good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut," the wizard said to him. There was a rock next to him. It appeared to have a picture of some...thing, and then "III". There was also a hastily stacked pile of wood, and a campfire, burning very dim.

"What's going on?" Rincewind asked. The old man looked up at him. The fire in his eyes shone more fervid than the one in the campfire.

"Sauron, the enemy. His servants are out tonight. They are approaching this; the Watchtower of Amon Sul. Weathertop. They come to slow me down in any way possible. They look for information on the One Ring."

"The One Ring?" Rincewind looked at the old man skeptically.

"You do not know of the One Ring?" Moist shook his head. And the old man plunged on into a much shorter version of the tale of the one Ring. "And I," he said, at the end, "am Gandalf. And Gandalf means me." Suddenly, Gandalf looked up. So did Rincewind. The Shadows that he had recently spotted below were closing in on the ring. Gandalf picked up a stick, and lit it ablaze. He handed it to Rincewind, who held it in his left hand, his staff in his right. Gandalf drew his sword, Glamdring, and held it in his right hand.

"Stay alert," Gandalf said. "The eyes of the enemy are very powerful. Very powerful indeed." Just then, they were overtaken by the Shadows.

Moist had been leading the Hobbits along the path for some time. They were all growing hot, and all together tired of the long road they had been treading. All of them wanted nothing more than a nice, hot supper, and warm beds. But none now wanted it more than Frodo, who was still cold and wet from his swim, just a little while earlier.

Just then, around a bend in the road up ahead, there came the noise of singing. One of the voices was certainly Tom Bombadil's, but the other was much fairer. It was like the rain falling down in spring, to meet the twinkle of the stars, off of the grasses fair beads of dew. The party rounded a corner and saw, up ahead, a large house on a small hill. In the doorway, stood Tom and next to him, a thin, tall figure, alike to an elf.

It was a woman, clad in a forest green dress. She wore a silver belt, and in her hair of gold, were brilliant water-lilies. For the first time ever, Moist and the Hobbits laid eyes on Goldberry, the fair River Daughter.


End file.
